


Extra Ordinary

by endemictoearth



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: F/M, Light Angst, Philosophical Bullshit, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 08:05:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6276304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endemictoearth/pseuds/endemictoearth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was inspired by a prompt @ch1darkcy reblogged: two extras have to sit across from each other and pretend to converse at a restaurant on the set of a movie. but the fake conversation turns to real conversation and they are really into each other and the director calls cut because they are distracting from the actual characters who are supposed to be the ones making eyes and looking like they’re falling in love, not a couple of random extras</p>
            </blockquote>





	Extra Ordinary

**Author's Note:**

> I’d seen this prompt before, and had started to write it, and this has sort of … I don’t know, morphed over time. It doesn’t exactly meet the brief of the prompt, and kind of feels a lot like overly philosophical conversation porn that no one asked for. It kept growing; I thought it was done probably half a dozen times, and then I’d get another idea. I trimmed some of them out, but I’m hoping that what’s left makes some sort of sense, after working on it on and off for a couple of months. It does some of the things I wanted it to do; it isn’t perfect, but what is?
> 
> I think I’ve been moving commas around and switching out words with this one because it’s extra-close to me. Or, rather, close to me as a university student. And when you share these things that you’ve thought and believed, even if you’ve changed them a degree or two, or you’ve wised up and moved on, it’s like baring your soul. Even more than usual.
> 
> But, I’m finally letting this one fly the coop. I have other stories I want to work on, and as long as this file is hanging out, tempting me, teasing me, I won’t be able to fully focus.

Rae picked nervously at the sleeve of her dress. It was floral, and apparently matched the ‘ambience of the scene’—whatever the fuck that meant.

When Archie asked her to be in his student film, Rae’s first instinct was to protest vehemently. She figured that not only did she _not_ need to be immortalized on film, she really didn’t WANT to be. The camera added a stone to skinny girls; who knew what it would do to her. It was only when Archie whined that he didn’t want to have to ask people he didn’t know to be in it that she melted a little. She understood not wanting to inconvenience anyone, and it was kind of nice to be such good friends that you were the first person they thought of inconveniencing.

She’d gotten there early to help ‘dress the set’, which mainly consisted of dragging some tables and chairs out in front of the café where Archie worked. Now she was just waiting around for the principals to come out from hair and makeup (generously provided by Izzy and Chloe) and start the scene. Archie was pacing nervously by the cafe door, a copy of the eight-page script folded accordion-style gripped in his hand.

There was a slight breeze, and the sun filtered through the early leaves that had just started to fill out the tree branches. This wasn’t so bad, sitting here in the dappled sunlight, pretending to sip a glass of water and look at a menu. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back for a moment, taking a deep breath of air scented by the flowering trees that dotted the street.

She heard someone slump themselves into the chair nearest hers, on the other side of the table. She opened her eyes, expecting to see Archie. But this wasn’t Archie.

“Uh, hi?” she asked, an edge of annoyance in her voice. The guy sitting across from her bit the inside of his lip and nodded once before looking at the ground. He seemed familiar, but she knew she’d never met this distractingly attractive human being before.

Her mind quickly flipped through possible reasons he was sitting with her and in a split second she said, “Oh, did Archie tell you to sit here? I probably sat at the wrong table or something; I’ll ask him where he wants me.”  She laid her hands on both armrests and started to stand up, but he raised a hand, shaking his head while he mumbled, “No, don’t.”

She sunk back onto the metal chair and waited for an explanation. “Archie said he thought it would be less awkward if we sat together, instead of each sitting alone and … y’know … not having anythin’ to do.”

“Oh. Well. Okay.” It felt pretty awkward so far. She didn’t even know this guy’s name. “I’m Rae, by the way.” She flashed a quick smile.

He nodded, but his grumpy expression didn’t change. “Yeah … Archie said. I’m a mate of his from back home.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously and glanced up. Her face must have conveyed her confusion. “Oh, sorry. Finn.” He didn’t elaborate beyond his name.

Rae pressed her lips together and raised her eyebrows, inhaling sharply. Finally, she exhaled, and whispered, “Cool.”

_Sure_ , she thought, _THIS isn’t more awkward than sitting alone_. She looked down at her dress again and shook her head.

“Somethin’ the matter?” Finn asked.

“No, not really. Just this fuckin’ dress. Looks like a Laura Ashley catalog threw up on me.”

Finn laughed out loud, his eyes scrunching up in genuine mirth. When he regained his composure, he cleared his throat. “It ain’t _that_ bad,” he murmured without conviction, which set Rae off.

A few moments later, giggles having subsided, Rae looked around for Archie, but couldn’t find him. The camera operator was also gone; the sound man had the tiny boom mic on loan from the university leaned against his shoulder while he smoked a cigarette.

Finn looked up and followed her gaze, and his leg started to jiggle a second later.

“Y’alright?” she asked.

“Yeah, just … I just quit smokin’ a couple o’ weeks back, an’ whenever I see someone, y’know … brings back the urge.”

“Ah. Sorry.” She looked around and then handed him the menu. “Here, look at this. I think Archie is going to spring for coffees at least … so we’ll have props.”

Finn took the menu with a grateful look and perused the long list of coffee variations and flavors of tea. After a moment, he glanced up at her. “Are you in this class? The, uh … filmmakin’ class?”

“Hmm? No, no, no. We met the first week of uni a couple of years ago, just randomly.” She thought about telling Finn about how Archie had asked her out for coffee and then confessed in the first five minutes that he was gay but then they kept meeting up as friends. Instead, she just said, “I’m reading Lit, and he started out as History … but you probably know that …” she faded her words out. Then added, “I don’t think we’ve ever had a class together, actually.”

Finn nodded thoughtfully, and Rae started to ask, “How do—“

“Okay, thanks for waiting, everyone! We’re going to try one and see how the set up is, alright?” Archie’s raised voice cut her off, and they looked up to see people milling all around them. Their mutual friend went up to the principal actors, Jeremy and Tom, and talked to them in an earnest, low voice. Both actors nodded in understanding and set themselves up for their walk to the table. Archie popped over to say, “Just have a normal, low-key conversation. The mic isn’t on you, so you don’t need to worry about what you’re saying, just keep it low, yeah?” Rae and Finn both nodded.

They watched him walk back to the guy holding the camera and then glanced at each other.

“Sooo …”

“Ummmm,” they murmured in unison, then shook their heads.

“Were you gonna ask me somethin’ a minute ago?” Finn questioned.

“Just … how do you know Archie, again? I mean, you said, ‘back home’, but …”

Finn nodded. “Archie’n me go way back. Met at infants, an’ have just sort of put up wi’ each other ever since. He’s me best mate, really.” Finn paused for a moment here, looking a little wistful. “I miss ‘im, since he’s come away, but I’m glad to see ‘im doin’ somethin’ he loves.”

“Oh, of course! Finnley, Finn! He’s talked about you, of course. I didn’t recognize you without your sunglasses.”

Finn blinked at her.

“From the photo on his door, sorry.” She cleared her throat and wondered, “So, um, are you at uni, back home?” aloud, feeling awkward again.

“Me? Nah. Not my thing. I work at a garage with a couple o’ mates, an’ play in a band at the weekend. Just for fun, mind. We don’t play many gigs.”

“Still, that must be … well, it sounds great to me.” It did; earning money and doing something for himself sounded smart to her. She was dreading graduation next year, if she was honest. “Christ knows what I’ll do when I’ve got my degree.”

Finn regarded her seriously for a long moment, looked her in the eye and seemed to take her all in. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll do fine. Archie’s always sayin’ university is for, like, development or whatever. T’figure out who you are, or some such.”

“Does he?” Rae tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and glanced over her shoulder at Archie, who was staring intently at a monitor. “Is that why you didn’t go? Already know who you are? Wish I had the first clue of who I am.” She laughed, but really did wish it.

Finn smiled, and hummed thoughtfully. “Well, I wouldn’t say … I guess the only thing I knew for sure when we were decidin’ about A levels an’ that, is that I wasn’t the kind to go to uni.”

“Well, that’s somethin’. Come to think of it, I know a lot more about what I’m not than what I am, too. But maybe it’s like that for everyone. Like … chippin’ away at a block of marble. You know which bits you don’t like or need, but you’re not sure you can make a decent figure out of what’s left.” She scoffed at herself. “Listen to me and all my metaphorical bullshit. Typical Lit major.”

Finn leaned forward to say something when Archie shouted, “CUT!” Both he and Rae were startled and squinted at Archie with a degree of irritation.

“Thanks, guys! That wasn’t a real take, but it helped. Extras, if you want, coffees are on me, just make sure they’re in a to-go cup, for continuity. We’ll go again in ten.” Then he turned back. “Remember your places, please!”

The half dozen other extras murmured and everyone started scraping their chairs back to stand and form a line inside.

Rae started to get up, too, when Finn lightly laid his hand on the cuff of her long-sleeved floral dress. “I can get these. What are ya havin’?” 

“Hmmm? Oh, thanks, you don’t … Uh, just coffee, thanks.”

“What d’ya take in it?”

She cleared her throat. “Um, cream and sugar. Not too much sugar, though.” She leaned forward again. “Are you sure, by the way? I can—“

“No problem; I’ll be right back.” Finn flashed her a grin and went to wait in line.

Rae fiddled with the ends of her sleeves, unconsciously tugging on the bit where Finn had placed his hand a moment ago. She looked around at the sparse crew, everyone doing something, looking purposeful. She studied Tom and Jeremy, the stars of this piece. Tom was tall, with dark hair and flashing eyes. He was angular and sharp. Archie had had a thing with him last year; they were both passionate, but about completely different things, so it flamed out like a meteor passing into the atmosphere. Tom looked like a leading man, so Archie sought him out when he finished the script for this project. Jeremy was smaller and softer. His edges blurred, and he always seemed to have a sleepy smile on his face. Rae didn’t know him well; didn’t know anyone who did, but Archie was acquainted with him from classes, and Rae liked the contrast he presented next to Tom.

Thinking of contrasts, Finn gently placed a cup in front of her, and slid back into the seat opposite. She shook her head, musing about how they must make an odd couple to passersby. Hell, even to the other extras. There was a blonde with a dodgy fringe that kept shooting daggers at Rae.

“What?” Finn asked, as he took experimental sip from his own cup, clearly not wanting to burn his mouth.

“Oh, nothin’,” she gingerly sipped from her own coffee, and glanced up to see Finn shaking his head.

“No, no, we’re s’posed to be havin’ a conversation, so c’mon. Out with it.” He gave her a sheepish grin, so she knew he wouldn’t hold her to it. So, instead of musing about how incongruous they looked, a different true thing slipped out.

“I was just … bein’ an extra makes me realize I sort of _always_ feel like an extra. Like, I’m in the background of other people’s lives, but nothin’ ever really happens to me. Well, at least, nothin’s happened in a good long while.” She thought about one thing that had happened, but mused that it wouldn’t have if she hadn’t done it to herself. But she wasn’t that person anymore. Maybe she should be grateful for the monotony, if she thought about it in those terms.

The grin faded from Finn’s face at her unexpected confession. Rae watched it go, and immediately felt exposed, even in her high-necked, long-sleeved dress. She squirmed, and scratched, and cleared her throat, waiting for Finn to say something.

But he didn’t. He just kept looking at her, eyes scanning her face like there was a story written there, somewhere behind her eyes. She looked down, before he could fathom the last paragraph, which she assumed would be him walking away and asking Archie to assign him to a different table.

When he did speak, his voice was careful, tentative. “Do … do you really feel like that?”

Rae shrugged. She’d said it without really thinking, but now that she thought about it, she did a bit. “Sometimes, yeah.” And before she could stop herself, she said, “I even tried writin’ me own story; well, sort of. Kept a diary, like. But just ended up writin’ about me mum an’ her boyfriend, an’ Oasis an’ Pulp an’ … all sorts. Anythin’ else, really.”

Finn bit his lip, then took another sip of coffee. “I think I get what ya mean, though.”

Rae wasn’t expecting that from him. A fit bloke like Finn? She couldn’t help but scoff, which caused a wounded expression to settle over his features.

“Sorry, I just … it’s hard to believe that you feel … outside of things.”

Finn leaned forward, keeping his voice low. “Anyone can feel that. Dunno why you’d think I’m … immune, or whatever. You don’t even know me.”

Rae bit her lip and hung her head for a moment.  “You’re right. Of course. I don’t. And I know I don’t like it when people make assumptions about me because I’m … well, y’know. So, I, of all people, shouldn’t do it to someone else.” She looked up with an expression somewhere between a smile and a grimace.

Finn regarded her for a moment. Less intensely than before, but he seemed satisfied with her words. He nodded. “Sure.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, until they heard Archie yell, “CUT!” Both of them swiveled to see why they’d stopped filming. Neither had heard Archie call ‘Action’ and they felt a little guilty.

“Tom, I like your energy, but can you tone down the emphasis? I feel like you’re acting for an imaginary audience, and on film … well, it doesn’t need to be that broad. Jeremy, you did a great job, but look at Tom more. Your eyeline is all over the place.”

Rae snuck a look at the actors. Tom’s eyes flashed as Jeremy studied the ground. They were possibly too well cast. _Maybe they should exchange roles_ , she thought.

“And Finn, Rae. You two were talking along and then stopped. If you could just keep a conversation going, sort of look at each other, it would help with editing. Thanks! We’re going again in two minutes!”

Rae’s face flushed with heat, and her eyes flew to meet Finn’s; they looked at each other guiltily.

She opened her mouth to speak, but then stopped.

Finn tilted his head in curiosity.

“Just … maybe we should wait until he calls action again,” she explained.

Finn shrugged. “Maybe, but then wouldn’t it look that way in the film? Like we weren’t really talkin’ … like it was just for this?”

Rae blinked at his insight. “Oh, well … I … you’re right, I reckon.” She took a sip of her coffee and glanced over at him. “So, what _shall_ we talk about?”

Finn shrugged again. “I thought we were doin’ alright before. Just … the same sort of stuff, really.”

Rae blinked. There was a passage from an E. M. Forster book that she’d written in her diary and had memorized word for word. The book it came from wasn’t her favorite, but it was so exactly how she felt sometimes, that her eyes kept reading it over and over. It came to her now, as they had just been talking about feeling … left out of life. Well, perhaps they hadn’t quite gotten to that point, but it was almost implied. And she was aware that she hadn’t spoken, and Archie wanted them to speak. For continuity. So it just … fell out of her.

“‘I seem fated to pass through the world without colliding with it or moving it—and I’m sure I can’t tell you whether the fate’s good or evil. I don’t die—I don’t fall in love. And if other people die or fall in love they always do it when I’m just not there.’” She hadn’t looked directly at Finn for this little speech, but she did now, embarrassed.

Finn leaned forward, his hand came forward across the table, but fell somewhere just short of hers, which was now balled into a fist, clutching at the edge of her sleeve.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Oh, sorry. It’s a quote from a book. It just … I don’t memorize a lot from my readin’ list; there’s not time or room in my brain. But that line … anyway. It came to mind, with our conversation.” Rae felt peculiar, but not as peculiar as she would have imagined, if someone had told her three days ago that she’d be sitting in a flowery sack of a dress talking to a fit bloke about her personal philosophies.

“What’s the book?” Finn asked.

“Where Angels Fear to Tread,” Rae answered. “E. M. Forster? Not my favorite; can’t remember much other than that bit, really. Somethin’ about a woman leaving her husband for a younger man or summat? Anyway.”

Finn bristled at this, sitting up straight and tapping his fore and middle fingers on the table impatiently, like he was tamping a cigarette. Probably an automatic thing, a memory in his muscles, from when he used to smoke.

“Sorry, I’m just sayin’ anythin’ that comes into my head, to keep talkin’. For Archie.” She explained, hoping he’d relax a bit. She’d never talked to anyone like this, at least, not someone she’d just met. Or someone not paid by the government to listen to her.

“Sure, yeah,” Finn exhaled. “For Archie. We should keep talkin’ for him. So … what d’ya like to listen to?”

Rae smiled at that, and straightened up to lean forward. “Well … now you’re talkin’ my language …”

There were several more takes, and they chatted easily through them all, the weighty philosophical talk gone, but not forgotten.

* * * * *

_The next day …_

Rae woke up in her student digs, pulled on a band t-shirt, mini skirt, and leggings and breathed a sigh of relief at being in clothes she liked. She made some tea and luxuriated in the empty house. All her housemates had buggered off or not come home, and the late Sunday morning sun pooled on the worn laminate counter as she looked out at the world.

The phone rang and her first instinct was to let it, the machine would get it. It rang three times, four, and the machine would pick up after five, but Rae shrugged and rolled her eyes and reached across for the phone on the wall next to the counter.

“Hello?” she sighed, expecting it to be for Chloe, or Rob, even Geoff. Anyone but her.

“Uh, hiya, is … is Rae there?” The voice mumbling down the line seemed familiar, but she didn’t read anything into it.

“This is her. I haven’t got any money, if you’re sellin’ somethin’.” Best put whoever it was off from the beginning.

“No, no, sorry. This is Finn. From yesterday?”

Her mouth gaped open, but no sound came forth.

“Y’know, from the … filmin’?” He sounded unsure.

Rae shook her head. “Oh, yeah! ‘Course, sorry. Still, wakin’ up I guess.” Her eyes grew wide, wondering if there was something the matter. “Was there anythin’ you wanted?”

“No, not … well, sort of? I …” His voice faded out, like he’d pulled the phone away from his mouth. Rae wondered if he was talking to someone else.

*

Finn took a deep breath, pulling the mouthpiece closer to his mouth, speaking more firmly. “Look, I … I had a nice time yesterday. Talkin’ an’ that. Don’t usually like talkin’ to anyone …” He sighed, and she didn’t say anything, so he kept on. “And, well … I asked Archie if he’d give me your number. I hope that’s okay.” He cleared his throat down the line. “I jus’ thought … did you maybe want to do it again sometime? Y’know, not on film?”

She laughed at that, the sound of her mirth bubbling through the phone. He smiled at the sound, feeling oddly proud that he’d caused it.

“Uh, sure! Well, I’m _definitely_ okay with never being filmed again.”

Finn shook his head at that. He’d watch a hundred films of her, but decided now might not be the time to tell her that.

The truth was, he’d asked Archie if he could sit with her.

When Archie came home on breaks, he was always banging on about her. At first Finn had been a little jealous. His best mate had found someone he seemed to like better, and that stung a bit. But then Archie started telling him about her great taste in music, and how sound she was. When he finally saw a photo of her at Christmas at the end of that first semester, Finn felt like he already knew her.

“Well, I’m actually headin’ back later today. Did you wanna maybe … hang out for a bit before … ? I mean, if you’re busy or have to study or whatever …” He couldn’t help supplying her with several excuses, and was glad she was on the the other end of a telephone line, and not here to see him wince.

There was a pause, but then Rae cleared her throat and said, “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I can do that. Do you wanna meet me at this record shop in town?”

“Plastic Wax?” Finn asked.

“Yeah … how’d ya—oh, I bet Archie told ya about it.”

“Yeah, I was headed there anyway … y’know, if ya’d said no.”

There was another bit of silence on the line.

Finn cleared his throat and asked, “What time did ya wanna meet?”

“Is one okay?” Her voice sounded a little faraway.

“Yeah, one’s perfect. I’ll … see ya there.”

“Yeah.” Her voice was louder now, more sure. “See you there.”

* * * * *

_More than a month later …_

Finn was in the kitchen, leaning against the laminate counter, waiting for Rae to finish getting ready.

After that Sunday afternoon, they’d spent a lot of time on the phone in the past several weeks, late at night, when the rates were cheaper. He’d gotten an email account at the library, and they’d sent a few handwritten letters, too. But this was the first time he’d been able to make the journey. It was the last week of classes, and they were having a showing of the films made in Archie’s class in the Theatre Department’s black box space. Archie had extended a general invitation to everyone involved, and was a little surprised when Finn said he was coming down. Less surprised when he saw Finn holding Rae’s hand at the pub the night he arrived.

Finn wished for a cigarette to calm his nerves. This felt like their first real date, even though they’d spent over a month getting to know each other. He nervously rubbed his damp palms along the thighs of his new jeans. When he looked at his hands, he saw they were faintly tinged blue with indigo dye. He sighed and got up to wash them in the kitchen sink.

As he was drying them on a tea towel, Rae emerged from the loo, hair shiny and bouncy. He guessed she must have done something a little different; she looked even more wonderful than he remembered.

“I decided to forego the Laura Ashley,” she smirked.

Finn’s eyes were roaming over her, taking in the short hem of her dress, the leather jacket worn _just enough_ to be cool, the fishnets layered over another pair of tights, and the Doc Martens that gave her another inch and a half on him. He straightened up taller. “Hmmm?” He replayed her comment in his brain, and chuckled on a delay. “Oh, right. Good thinkin’, you wouldn’t want to be mobbed for autographs after.”

Rae rolled her eyes, but didn’t hide her grin.

* * *

They sat in the dark, holding hands. (Rae hadn’t moved away when he’d laid his forearm against hers on the armrest, and she hadn’t flinched when he slipped his hand under her wrist to thread his fingers through hers. If anything, she’d looked too stoic, which made Finn wonder if she was enjoying it, until she bit her lip and glanced over to smile shyly at him.)

The first film had been a black and white montage between modern day shots and classic silent films, something about death and despair. Too pretentious for words. Then there was a sweet film about two kids going fishing that felt like an ad for being nice to one another. A few more nondescript three minute scenes with jerky editing played away, and then it was time for Archie’s.

His was a little longer, and the dialogue was good (had to be, since it was essentially three versions of the same conversation looped). But Finn couldn’t help staring at Rae’s profile on screen. Rae’s eyes seemed fixed on that part of the screen, as well. He realized he was looking for clues. Did she like him that first day? Did he seem super awkward? He soon stopped looking at himself and just focused on Rae. She was looking at him; her eyes dropped down to her hands for a moment. She bit her lip (which made him wonder if it was him making her bite it then, as well as now), but raised her gaze and then replied in earnest to something his said. He tried to figure out which part of their conversation this was, but then the screen faded to black and the credits rolled. He blinked rapidly.

Archie’s was the last film of the night, and the audience broke into polite applause. Finn looked at his friend. Archie was smiling at Jeremy who was sitting next to him. Then Finn looked to Rae, who also seemed to be a little dazed, like she’d just woken up.

They stood up. Finn stretched a little, and Rae unhunched her shoulders, standing up straighter. Neither seemed to know what to say.

Finally, Rae broke the silence. “I guess it’s lucky Archie asked you to sit with me, huh?” Her eyes flicked up to meet his, and then she looked away, over at Archie.

Finn bit his lip. “Yeah, about that …”

A look of concern washed over her face quickly, like it was an instinct too deeply ingrained.

“No, no, it’s just … I asked to sit with you. Archie was so frazzled that day; he probably wouldn’t have cared where anyone sat, as long as the framing was okay. Is that—did I get that right? Framing is a film thing, right? Like, the …” He was drawing in the air with his fingers, and knew he was babbling; all the while, Rae’s face was scrolling through expressions, searching for the right one.

Finally, she settled on covering her mouth with her hand, eyebrows raised.

“What’s wrong?” Finn asked.

“I … I said so much crap that day. About … all that philosophical bullshit.”

“So? I liked it. I liked—I like _you_.” He bit the inside corner of his lip. He tried to replay the last month on fast forward in his brain. She gave him her number, but he’d always called her. But she would send him funny pictures apropos of nothing via email, just because she thought he’d laugh. And her letters … he’d reread them at least ten times each, because she wasn’t a Lit major for nothing. They _were_ on the same page, right? He hadn’t completely misread everything, had he? “Have you been … I mean, you knew that, right? I feel like I’m bein’ fairly obvious here.”

“No, no you … I guess you have been pretty clear with me. It’s just … I this is all fairly new to me. I haven’t really … I mean, I’ve been on a few dates—well, a couple. And in college, there was … whatever. This just sort of … snuck up on me, I guess.” She smiled at him, eyes shining in the dim light of the tiny theater, everyone else had gone while they were talking, most likely the majority going over to the pub next door for celebratory pints.

“But, you do … like me?” Finn silently cursed the questioning tone that crept into what was supposed to be a statement. He wished he could be smoother, less unsure. But he really wanted, no, NEEDED, to hear her say it.

“‘Course I like you! I feel like anyone would like you, probably everyone does. It’s the part about _you_ liking _me_ that I’m still working on.”

In his head, the word ‘like’ was a sword clashing in his brain every time either of them said it. It was standing in for something; it only said part of what he felt. But it was too soon to say anything beyond that. But the steel on steel in his mind must have caused a spark because he realized here, in this empty quiet room, that what he _didn’t_ feel anymore was lonely. That feeling of being outside, or on the edges, like they’d talked about that day of the filming. He was where he was supposed to be, and who he was supposed to be with.

“Are you two comin’ or what?” Archie barked at them from under the red EXIT sign at the top of the aisle.

They both nodded, still looking at one another.

“Well, come _on_ , if you’re comin’,” he waved them urgently up the carpeted row.

When they met their friend at the threshold, he hooked his arm through Rae’s elbow, which caused Finn to grip her free hand.

“Y’know, you two looked really good up there,” Archie said. “At one point, Troy, the guy who helped edit it … remember, with the piercings? Yeah, well, he even joked that I should have made my movie about you guys.”

Finn caught Rae’s eye at that, only to find her catching his. They both were looking for the other’s reaction.

Rae eventually shook her head, and Finn’s heart leapt up into his throat for an awful moment.

“No, I’m glad you told the story you did,” she said. “There needs to be more representation in film and television, for sure.”

“Thanks, my Rae-of-sunshine!” Archie leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. Then he skipped ahead to catch up to Jeremy, who was almost out the door.

Finn and Rae kept walking slowly, holding hands. Rae pursed her lips and mused, “I don’t want to be the star of the show, anyway. Seems like a lot of work.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. I’d much rather just find another extra I like and …” her voice trailed off.

“And?” Finn stopped just short of the theater exit.

Rae stopped and faced him. “Annnnd, do _this_ , I s’pose,” she said, hesitating a split second before leaning in to kiss him.

The world around them blurred and swirled, and behind his closed eyes, Finn saw them on screen again, in the back, to the right of the action. Rae’s ridiculous dress that strangely suited her; his stark black leather jacket over a white tee. They didn’t exactly match, but they looked well together.They _went_ well together. And the words they spoke didn’t have to matter to anyone but each other.

They broke apart, hearing Archie groan, “Come ON, you two are grossing me OUT. Let’s get a drink, an’  then you two can make out all night when you get back to Rae’s.”

Four eyebrows shot up at the suggestion, to which Archie rolled his eyes. “I’m havin’ a guest over this evening, Finnley, so I’m sorry to say you are disinvited from spending the night on my floor.”

They followed Archie out into the night and down the street. Finn paused before following him into the pub, tugging on Rae’s arm.  “Wait,” he whispered. He watched Archie disappear, and counted to ten to make sure he wasn’t coming back out to scold them again.

Rae looked at him, confused, eyes scanning his for an explanation. “I just … you kissed me.”

Her eyes dropped, and she muttered, “Sorry.”

“No! Don’t — It was …” He faltered. She made him falter; his struggle with words was never harder than when she was around. “Rae.”

She still wouldn’t look up at him. His heart broke at the idea that she might be thinking he didn’t want her to.

“I never do that … y’know, initiate. An’ then Archie had to go an’ say that stuff about … y’know.” She squirmed a little as she talked, and Finn remembered her doing the same when they first met and didn’t know what to say to one another. Surely they weren’t back to square one.

“Thank fuck you did,” he said. “I was tryin’ to get up the courage.”

Rae’s eyes widened, and she finally looked up.

“And thank fuck he did, because I think it’s a brilliant idea.”

Rae blinked.

“Well … don’t you?” he asked with a squeak.

They heard another squeak, the pub door swinging open, and both glanced over at Archie, who was about to reprimand them once more.

Together, they shouted, “WE’RE COMING!”


End file.
